


Take My Indifference, Not My Picture

by LetteredConverse (StarrisonGarden)



Category: Bandom, Pearl Jam, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Character Study, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrisonGarden/pseuds/LetteredConverse
Summary: Corduroy's only special when I'm wearing it.





	Take My Indifference, Not My Picture

**Author's Note:**

> You could say I just recently joined the Pearl Jam fandom, if I really have at all, so I certainly don’t know everything there is to know about any of their members. Still, from what I’ve listened to and watched, I’ve become quite intrigued by how apparently simple yet utterly complicated Eddie is. And I have no shame in admitting how much I relate to that paradox. So, in a way, this is my attempt at understanding him – I'd just call it a character study, but you're free to think of it however you want. And yes, sorry, it's written in first person POV because I wasn't feelin' a more detached voice.
> 
> I mean no disrespect or ill will toward the real person in writing this, and the character is fictitious. In a way, I have no right to know what he’s like in real life. Which is why I wrote this, instead.

I struggle with wanting to make a difference. I struggle to stand up for people who wish they could stand up for themselves but, for whatever reason, can’t. I know some of those reasons. Because they’re never listened to, anyway. Because there’s too much opposition. Because they’re jaded and don’t think it would even make a difference to try. I get it. They don’t know that I get it, or why, but most of them seem to take comfort in my attempts.

The problem is, my attempts are just that – attempts. There are few things I’ll go all the way with, seeing that they reach the light at the end of the tunnel. Music is definitely one of them. Writing, singing. Those attempts come easily, and the passion with which I execute them comes easily. It’s just part of who I am. And I guess they get that because they keep buying our records and coming out to see us. And that’s great, for sure! It’s wonderful to be accepted, even in this small and impersonal way, for who I am. Not everyone gets to enjoy that, and I feel for those people deeply. That’s part of why I do what I do – it’s part of _where_ the passion comes from. Wanting someone to know that I understand how they feel by having them understand how I feel is something I get a lot of inspiration from. I mean, it’s like connecting on a human level, and that’s an indescribable feeling. A gift. Something I wouldn’t trade for the world.

But wanting, like, recognition for it? Wanting to be hailed and treated like some otherworldly being for it? No. That’s not what I want. Because there’s no humanity in that. It’s like, the way people scream at me, I’m either an angel or a devil. There’s nothing human about either of those positions. I don’t know – or, rather, I don’t really think – that people understand that. Because if they did, they wouldn’t be screaming at me or for me. They would just…maybe kind of smile at me, or frown at me, and I would know immediately where I stood with them. But the screaming, the letters, the signs, the reaching for me like I’m some unreachable being – I mean, how am I supposed to think of that? How am I supposed to treat that? Unless you know that you’re having a good time or a bad time, there’s really no way to gauge that kind of reaction with any sort of human response.

I hate being treated like some statuesque dude up on a pedestal. Like, I’ve seen statues before, and I never thought I’d really like to be in their position. And up on a pedestal? It’s high up there, man. You can’t reach anyone from that height. And so…that’s where my dilemma comes in.

I don’t want to be like some untouchable voice of reason for all of these different topics, all these ways I’d like to help people but know that I can’t do everything. I just want to be human, while advocating for other people’s humanity, or against people’s _lack_ of humanity. But for some reason, a lot of the time, it seems like that’s impossible, like it’s too much to ask. God knows why. It makes me want to apologize for all of my failings, but I know I really don’t owe any of them that. The only people I should apologize to for failing are the people I’ve personally failed, in my own life – the people who I have relationships with, relationships I can do something about that I could either improve or fuck up completely. Either way, _I_ can change them or influence them in some way, while the other parties have the same power. But for the people I want to help, that kind of connection just isn’t possible. It comes down to the fact that we _don’t_ have the same power because, unfortunately, that’s just way too many people to have personal connections with. It would take me hundreds of lifetimes to get to know each and every one of them on a personal basis, not to mention whether they would even want that or not.

It just sucks, man.

I didn’t bargain for this, you know? I paid full price for something I can’t even bear to use to its full potential because to do so would feel totally wrong to me. It’s not what I wanted. But there’s not a lot I can do about that unless I stopped functioning on my passions. And as much as it all sucks, I can’t imagine that happening. At least, not any time soon.


End file.
